


500 Followers AU Challenge - Nothing Much To Do

by BelovedCreation



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:48:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2117391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedCreation/pseuds/BelovedCreation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles featured on my Tumblr page celebrating 500 followers. Drabbles came from prompts that asked followers to pair a fandom/couple with 1 of 50 AU choices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bea and Ben + Fake Married

“Wrap your arm around my waist.”

Through a mouth full of crisps, Benedick was only able to mumble incredulously, “Whaaa?”

With a sickly-sweet smile on her face, Beatrice hissed her next words through her teeth as she laid her head on his shoulder, shooting warmth to his gut. “Wrap. Your arm. Around. My waist.”

Ben complied because that all you could really do with Bea giving you that look and your mouth full of crisps and some stupid-looking fellow approaching at a party.

“Hey Bea, how’s it going?” he asked in a way that was shooting for nonchalant but ended up somewhere in the region of quite chalant.

Bea giggled in a way that shot for nonchalant and hit it on the mark. “Oh, Louis, I didn’t see you there.” She grabbed a crisp from the bag that Ben was still stupidly clutching in his other hand, and popped it into her mouth.

“You’re looking lovely tonight, Bea. That top really brings out your eyes.” Ben felt his lip curl in disgust. Why was this strange chap trying to chat up Bea? And why was he doing such a terrible job at it?

She placed her hand over the one resting on her waist and let more of her weight lean against the side of his body. “Have you met my fiancee, Ben?”

Ben was incredibly grateful he had swallowed his junk food, because if not he would surely have choked and died and no one really wanted the whole world to have to mourn his untimely death for a week. And what was this about being engaged? To Beatrice?

The awkward bloke (Louis, apparently) stuck out his hand for Ben to shake. Not bothering to wipe off the fine dusting of crisp residue, Ben shook it in a way that he hoped conveyed how incredibly macho and manly he was.

“Well,” Louis said, bobbing his head, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“See you around, Louis,” Bea chirped, already popping another tasty crisp into her mouth. As soon as Louis turned his back, Ben tried to extract his arm, but Bea had him in some sort of a death grip. It wasn’t until he had disappeared into the crowd that Bea let him go, but she still remained in his personal space, eyes glowing with her usual passion. “Good god, that man is a pill,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“Care to fill me in?” Ben pouted, letting his curiosity get the better of him.

Bea looked over at where Louis had gone and sighed, taking a deep pull of her drink before responding. “That’s Louis and he is one of several men I know who absolutely refuse to take no for an answer.”

“So he regularly tries to chat you up?”

“Very regularly. Every time I see him regularly.”

“And you’ve told him off?”

“Every time. In clear and indisputable terms. But he’s one of those stupid blokes who will only really back off when another guy has already claimed a girl he’s interested.” Bea spit out ‘claimed’ like it was a disgusting word and Ben had to chuckle. She wasn’t the sort of girl that anyone could claim. Not really.

Bea clapped him on the shoulder and it was like old times again. Like they were fourteen and it was the two of them against the world. “Thanks for helping me, Ben.”

He stuffed another crips in his mouth to cover up the goofy grin that spread across his face. “No problem. Is that all you need?”

Her hand stroked her chin in an exaggerated manner and shifty eyes darted once again to where Louis had gone. “I don’t know. He might be back.”

That grin came across Ben’s face, but this time he didn’t try to hide it. “What do you say we have a contest, then?”

“A contest?” Bea echoed, eyebrows shooting up. “What do you have in mind?”

“I say we see who can be the most disgustingly adorable. Like Hero and Claudio.”

A sparkle appeared deep in Bea’s eyes, and she reached out her hand for a formal and challenge-sealing handshake. “You’re on, snookums.”

Ben leaned forward and pinched her cheeks. “Anything you say,sugarbooger.”


	2. Bea and Ben + Pregnant

“Benedick, I am going to fucking kill you!” Bea roared as another contraction crested and her knuckles turned white from squeezing her husband’s hand. Ben winced at the pain and Bea started plotting his imminent demise. Perhaps suffocation. Or stabbing. Maybe even poison in his morning coffee. Anything to get him back for this horrific pain tearing through her body.

“What’s the murder plan?” Ben asked with a halfhearted chuckle, reading her mind.

Bea moaned and took a series of shallow breaths as her contraction subsided. “I’m not sure. Haven’t decided yet if it will be slow and painful or quick and merciful. Leaning toward slow and painful.”

He pushed a strand of sweat-soaked hair off of her forehead. “You could douse me with burning oil. Or cut off each of my fingers, one at a time.”

She laughed, “I think I would start with a different, much more guilty body part.”

Ben comedically covered up his crotch and gave her an aghast look. “Good lady, that is a truly evil idea. Cut off all the body parts you want but, for heavens sake, never take away my manhood.”

“I thought the new rule of the house was going to be ‘Mother knows best.’”

He leaned forward, kissing her lightly on the cheek and whispering in her ear. “My darling, one day, when this is but a distant memory, you are going to want that appendage again. And you would be quite disappointed to find it missing.”

Another contraction started and Bea threw out her hand, searching for something to grip a hold of. His hand was there in an instant. It anchored her as the pain surged again, and the fresh scent of Ben and their home filled her nostrils, calming her in the midst of the panic that accompanied this most terrifying day. Bea took shallow, ridiculous-sounding breaths. “I don’t care, Ben. We’re getting rid of your dick!”

He chuckled again, and she wondered if he was feeling as delirious as she did. “Get through this, Bea, and you can have any of my body parts on a silver platter.”


	3. Bea and Ben + Blind Date

Bea let out a huff of air, blowing her bangs off of her forehead, probably ruining the perfect hairdo that Hero had styled for the night.

Good.

If it was a choice between slow death by problematic teenaged love story or a blind date, Bea had always been the type to go for the bad movies. At least a movie never felt you up on your doorstep or lied about how you wouldn’t let it feel you up and tried to start a rumor that you were a slut. Movies were predictable like that.

People weren’t.

Bea reached into her purse for her phone. This fucker was eight minutes late. Pedro’s friend obviously didn’t care about things like punctuality and respect. If she got stood up, Bea was going to kill Pedro. Stupid Pedro with his stupid matchmaking and stupid blackmail. Bea wasn’t going to get tricked like this again.

She was considering leaving when a young man entered the restaurant alone. He was tall and lanky: just the way she liked ‘em. Bea’s stomach went up in knots when she realized two things.

1) This had to be the guy Pedro set her up with.

2) He was really cute. Like really, really cute.

He arrived at the table and gave her a cautious and crooked grin. “Are you Pedro’s friend?”

3) He was British. Crap.

Okay, so maybe Bea wouldn’t kill Pedro just yet. She’d wait to hear what the mystery man had to say.

The guy was giving her a weird look, and with a start Bea realized she had been staring. “Oh! Yeah, I am!” She stuck out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Bea.”

He took it and kissed the back of her hand. It was cheesy but strangely charming. He sat down across from Bea and fiddled with the menu. “I’m Benedick.”

“Benedick?” Bea frowned. “That’s an unusual name.”

Benedick rolled his eyes. “My parents are nutters. Most people just call me Ben.”

“They must not be that nutty. I knew a Benedick from around here back when I was eight.”

“No kidding?” Ben paused, then leaned forward. “Wait. What’s your surname?”

“Duke.”

“Beatrice Duke? Hero’s cousin?” Ben’s eyes lit up and he chuckled. “There’s only one pair of nutters around here. I’m the same Benedick from when we were kids.”

Bea felt her eyebrows hit her hairline. “Dicky? Seriously?”

Ben groaned and buried his face in his hands. When he raised it again, Bea noticed his ears had gone pink. “Geez, I haven’t heard that nickname in years. I was hoping it was long behind me.”

“You’re one to talk, Dicky. You used to call me Beets and Rice!” She leaned forward and shoved his shoulder with exaggerated frustration. Ben caught her hand between his own and looked deep into her eyes.

“Then we must settle on a truce. I promise not to call you by your awful nickname if you promise not to call me by mine.”

Bea nodded. “Agreed.”

He released her hand and picked up his menu, but Bea could still feel his warmth, strong and steady around her fingers. She picked up her own menu but couldn’t help but steal glances at him over it. This was a very strange blind date. She couldn’t look at the handsome young man before her without remembering the scrawny kid from years ago with whom she had played tag and capture the flag. Being with him now was such a strange mix of the familiar and the new and Bea wasn’t entirely sure what she should say.

He cleared his throat and Bea looked up to realize the waitress was waiting for her to order. Bea smiled awkwardly and picked something random off of the menu. When the waitress left, she had to look at Ben again. He was smiling like he knew exactly what she had been daydreaming about.

Stupid prat.

“So, you still have that bikini from when we were eight? I always thought you looked hot in it.” He waggled his eyebrows in a seriously ridiculous manner.

Stupid, disgusting prat.

Bea gave him a vicious smile. “Why? Do you need something waterproof? Are you still wetting the bed like when we were eight? I heard a rumor that that problem continued into high school.”

He stopped for a moment, mouth falling open in shock. Then Ben threw back his head and cracked up. His laugh was so loud it drew the attention of no less than three tables and even made Bea smile.

Stupid, adorable prat.


	4. The Princess Bride

Pedro’s life was exceedingly boring. He lived in a small hamlet, surrounded by silly peasants. The castle was small and aged, and he often wished that he would be called to court for something exciting, like war or a royal marriage. His only consolation in his day-to-day drudgery was demanding that the local bard sing him a song.

“Bard!” he would demand in his most haughty, lofty voice, “Sing me a song.”

And the bard would do so, singing a lovely song about the flowers and the trees and the earth bursting with new life in the spring.

When Pedro’s parents died within a fortnight of one another, his father from old age and his mother from a broken heart, he called the bard. “Bard!” he demanded with as much bravado as he could muster, “Sing me a song.”

And the bard sang him a song that broke his heart again, a song about the pain of life and the melancholy of being left behind after a beloved had died.

Pedro dearly desired a laugh one day, and he called for the bard. “Bard!” he demanded in his vexation, “Sing me a song.”

And the bard obeyed his order, singing him a song about the folly of the idiots and the bumbling actions of the stupid. Pedro laughed and laughed and laughed.

That is the day he realized that the bard wasn’t just singing him songs because he was demanded. The bard was singing him songs because he loved Pedro.

Theirs was a tentative romance, played out in the fringes of court. Pedro had always been too full of narcissism to ever care too deeply about anyone else. The bard gave his whole heart to Pedro, singing him song after song after song.

One day, the bard realized that he needed to seek fame and fortune in order to deserve the heart of the nobleman. He set out on a journey to find himself and to be worthy of Pedro. Their parting was passionate, and the bard sang a sweet song of love and devotion.

The bard promised to write, and theirs could have been a happy story. But three weeks after he left, the bard’s ship was taken over by the Dread Pirate Roberts, who took no prisoners. When he heard the news of Balthazar’s death, Pedro’s heart broke a million times over.


	5. Hero and Claudio + Wedding Planning

“What’re you doing?” Claudio asked, his head lolling off of the couch where he had been laying for the past quarter-hour trying to do his homework.

Hero tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked up pleasantly. “Just on Pinterest.”

“Pinterest? What’s that?” Claudio prodded. He bounded up from the couch and plopped down on the arm of the loveseat she was curled up in. Obviously, Claudio wasn’t in the mood to read another literary classic.

“Its a website where you make virtual bulletin boards and inspiration boards.” Hero scrolled through the page, letting him look over her shoulder at  _green + party_. “There are all sorts of crafts and pretty things to look at.”

“Why are you looking at-” Claudio squinted his eyes, “green parties?”

Hero pinned a stunning centerpiece. “Getting ideas for my sixteenth. I’m thinking of going with the color green.”

“So you can plan all sorts of parties with Pinterest?” Claudio asked, reaching out his hand to continue scrolling. “Birthdays and Christmases and -” he cleared his throat “weddings?”

Hero could feel a blush begin to work its way across her cheeks. “Yes, I suppose you could.” Without knowing why, she went back to the search bar and typed in ‘wedding.’” White dresses and sharp tuxedos and kissing couples popped across her screen. It was all so beautiful and it took everything Hero had not to start a new board immediately.

“Hmmmm…” Claudio hummed, playfully stroking his chin. He pecked her cheek with a kiss and walked back to the couch, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Ten minutes later, when Hero was pinning the cutest party favors (potted plants!), Claudio surprised her with an excited shout.

“Didja know you can hire a celebrity impersonator to officiate a wedding?”


End file.
